


go for broke

by sky_reid



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Background Relationships, Card Games, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Smoking, World War II, i cannot believe there's a legit tag for that, well not exactly modern, wop there's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>May, 1940 - A group of friends (or something more) spends one last night together before the war forces them to go their separate ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	go for broke

**Author's Note:**

> soooo i'm stuck in a huge ass writer's block and i've decided to try writing through it and i'm getting my themes from (inter)national holidays and the like and it was go for broke day on april 5th, whose origin can be loosely traced back to ww2 and that's how this fic was born none of which you all needed to know but now you do
> 
> as far as relatively relevant information goes, rex is what i named the pendragon family dog and for some more relevant information about history references in this fic check the end notes (i tried to do my research, but given that this is a 1.5k story and not a big bang it is quite possible some inaccuracies slipped by me, if they did, sorry about that)
> 
> the series this fic is part of is not going to be based on theme, which is to say i don't actually _plan_ on writing a sequel, just wanted to get that out there

 

_Go for Broke_

 

Gwaine piles the cards into a neat stack before placing the deck in front of Morgana. “Your turn,” he says, tapping the top of the deck twice. Merlin grabs his wrist.

 

“I knew we shouldn't play cards with you. Give it back.”

 

Gwaine twists his arm away easily. “You wound me, friend,” he drawls. Merlin just raises an eyebrow at him. Gwaine sighs. “You're no fun.” He reaches into his sleeve and pulls a card out of it. Merlin reaches for it, but Gwaine pulls it away, teasingly waving it just in front of Merlin's fingers before handing it to Morgana.

 

Watching them, Arthur could almost forget that it might be the last time he's seeing them. He follows Morgana's fingers as she shuffles the deck the way Gaius taught them when they were kids. The queen of spades slips through her fingers; Arthur picks it up and wordlessly slips it back into the deck. She's leaving for Canada in the morning, courtesy of their fathers' influential friends overseas. She's not happy about it and Arthur knows better than to argue with her so he doesn't say it, but he sides with his father on this one; he will feel better knowing that at least she is safe.

 

She deals five cards to each of them and drops the rest in the middle of the table. “You're first,” she tells him.

 

He picks his cards up and orders them. He looks at Lancelot across the table. “Sevens.”

 

“Fish,” Lancelot replies. Him and Gwaine lucked out, stationed together on _Lancastria_ ; they ship out for Norway next week. They will be the last to leave and the only ones to stay together. Arthur adds ten of diamonds to his hand. “Got an eight?” Lancelot asks, nudging Gwen's arm with his elbow. He draws a card when Gwen shakes her head. She became a telephonist with ATS weeks before Arthur finished his pilot training, the first of them all to really join the war effort. Her unit is headed to France the day after tomorrow, the same day Arthur needs to be at Biggin Hill.

 

“Ten?” she asks Morgana. Morgana stops rummaging through the pockets on Arthur's old jacket that she's taken to wearing lately to peak at her cards.

 

“Fish,” she says, her hand already back in her pocket; it comes back with a lighter and a half-empty pack of cigarettes. She lights one and hands the rest to Arthur. Arthur passes them on to Merlin. “Aces,” Morgana tells Merlin just as he is lighting his own cigarette; he coughs when he tries to speak at the same time. She grins at him wickedly.

 

“Love your timing,” Merlin chokes. “And fish.” He's part of the infantry reenforcement for BEF, also in France. Gwen's told Arthur she hopes they might end up together in a base, and Arthur doesn't have the heart to tell her that Merlin is more likely to end up sleeping in a hole in the ground with bombs going off everywhere around him. Even as a medic, he ended up with the worst and most dangerous placement. His voice is still strained when he asks Gwaine for his fours.

 

Gwaine takes a drag from his cigarette as he goes through his cards. “Nope,” he says. “Kings?”

 

It takes Arthur a second to react, lost as he is in his thoughts. “Uh, yeah, no luck,” he replies. Morgana looks up at him from where she's putting the cigarette pack back in her jacket. She doesn't say anything but Arthur somehow feels like that time she caught him crying at Rex's grave behind their old house. He quickly looks away and asks Gwen for her tens. She gives him two cards from her hand. He looks at Merlin to his right. Merlin waves his hand at the deck in the centre. The smoke from his cigarette gets in Arthur's eyes. He draws another ten.

 

“Oh come on,” Merlin moans when he shows it to everyone and puts the trick of tens face down in front of him.

 

“Weren't you supposed to be bad at this game?” Lancelot asks, shaking his head.

 

“You know what they say,” Gwaine says, smoke curling out from his mouth, “those who don't have luck in love, find it in cards.”

 

Next to Arthur Merlin snorts. Arthur only reacts with “Sevens.”

 

“Asking the wrong person, fish,” Gwaine replies. “Kings?” he asks Morgana.

 

She shakes the ashes off into a flowerpot behind her. “Fish.” She looks back at Arthur. For a moment, Arthur thinks she'll say something else, but the only thing that comes out is, “Sevens.” He turns them over. Her fingers brush over his deliberately when she takes the cards and she smiles. He commits the moment to memory as she turns to Gwaine.

 

“Why are you all asking me, I don't have anything!”

 

“Maybe you should check your sleeves,” Morgana teases.

 

Arthur watches absently as Lancelot sends Gwaine fishing for fives and asks Merlin for eights; while Morgana complains about Merlin collecting sevens and taking her four before striking out with Gwen, he thinks how this could be any other night. It could be any other day tomorrow. Morgana could be hosting a tea and Gwen could be teaching 11-year-old girls how to make stew. Gwaine might have had his own radio show by now and Lancelot would still be in university if the war hadn't broken out. And Arthur would still be buying his bread from Merlin's mom's bakery, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of Merlin's flour smudged smile.

 

Through the grey smoke Arthur sees Morgana twirling a lock of her hair, Gwen's hand resting in Lancelot's, Gwaine carelessly playing with a coin. Merlin's smile.

 

Morgana pokes him in the arm. “Arthur! Where did you disappear to?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Gwen waves at him. “Got a jack for me?”

 

Gwaine chokes on the drink Arthur didn't notice him getting. “Please don't say that ever again.” The laughter sounds distant in Arthur's ears and his vision is a little blurry when he looks at his cards.

 

“Uh, yeah, I do. Take it. I need to get some air.”

 

The porch is pitch black and rain drips onto the railing. Arthur regrets not taking Morgana's pack, if nothing else for than just to have something to do with his hands. Old planks creak under his feet.

 

“You should really fix that leak.”

 

“No point now.”

 

One corner of Merlin's mouth lifts in an uneven smile. “Something to do when you come back.”

 

“If we come back.”

 

“Figured you might be thinking about that,” Merlin says, sitting up on the railing.

 

“Aren't you?”

 

Merlin shrugs one shoulder. “Trying not to.”

 

“Yeah, everyone is.” Arthur knows he shouldn't, but he leans on the railing next to Merlin. Their shoulders touch. “We're playing cards like it's not the last time we see each other.”

 

“It might not be. And if it is,” Merlin's fingers are ice cold when they wrap around Arthur's wrist, “don't you want it to be a good memory you take with you?” The brush of Merlin's lips against his ear makes Arthur shiver.

 

“I thought we agreed not to do this,” Arthur says, leaning closer against every rational thought he has.

 

“That was before. Does it really matter if anyone finds out now?” Merlin traces Arthur's jaw with the tips of his fingers, holds his chin and angles his head upwards. He smells like Morgana's expensive cigarettes and the cheap soap he uses. Their noses brush and Arthur closes his eyes. “Think of this as another good memory.”

 

“As a goodbye?” Arthur asks. He can almost feel Merlin's lips on his, the anticipation of the kiss almost enough.

 

“As a _till next time_ ,” Merlin says.

 

So Arthur kisses him.

 

Merlin's fingers comb through the short hair at the back of Arthur's neck. He pulls Arthur closer by the lapels on his jacket. Arthur's hand hovers over Merlin's back for a second before he lets himself touch. He traces the sliver of exposed skin where Merlin's shirt is untucked and ridden up. He can hardly feel the rain.

 

“Till next time,” he says.

 

He doesn't have it in him to step away for some time; he stands close feeling the back of Merlin's worn-thin shirt get wetter under his hand, Merlin's cold hands on his skin, Merlin's breath on his face.

 

Merlin breaks the moment. “We should go back inside.”

 

Arthur buries his face in Merlin's neck, savouring him for a moment, before stepping away. “We should.”

 

Merlin beats him to the door. “Promise not to ruin the night?” he asks, opening it.

 

Their friends don't say anything about how long they've been gone or how they must look. Gwaine is no longer the only one with a drink and the empty pack of cigarettes lies crumpled on the floor. The deck of cards is sitting in the centre of the table. Arthur takes it and sits down, already shuffling.

 

“Whose turn is it?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> while you don't have to read these ramblings, i promise they _are_ relevant and provide a bit more insight into what i was thinking while writing
> 
> so, arthur is obviously with the royal air force and biggin hill is an raf base (it's an airport now, and it's been a civilian airport since 1959 in practice and 1992 officially); now i'm sure this is obvious but british pilots got stuck in france fairly often for various reasons
> 
> gwen is with the auxiliary territorial service or ats which was a ww2 branch of the british army where women could serve becoming initially cooks and clerks, but later on also drivers and ammo inspectors; many of the ats women who went to france when the war broke out were rescued from dunkirk (operation dynamo), but for the purposes of this fic i decided that gwen would go later and stay until a couple of weeks after the evacuation of dunkirk
> 
> merlin is a medic with the infantry in france; british expeditionary force or bef was the british army on the continent in the first years of the war. they were stationed in france for a while but only engaged in battles in may 1940; the soldiers were evacuated in several different operations, one of which is the previously mentioned dynamo and another of which i will get to in a minute
> 
> the ship lancelot and gwaine are stationed at, rms/hmt lancastria, was a cruise ship before the war, then a cargo ship and finally a troopship. in late may/early june 1940 it participated in operation alphabet - an evacuation of troops from norway. it was then part of operation ariel during which it sank near st nazaire.
> 
> what i'm saying is, in my head they all met again while trying to get out of france. did they make it? idk i'm gonna leave that up to you
> 
> i will say that the sinking of lancastria is the greatest loss of life in the sinking of a british ship with more than two times as many victims as there were in the titanic catastrophe; 2,477 people survived (so if you want a happy ending, it's not completely impossible), but estimates of death toll are anywhere between 4,000 and 9,000


End file.
